Grand Theft Autumn
by Swinging Cloud
Summary: "Brittany knows Santana is practicing for Puck, but she can't help hoping, all the same." Brittana. SUMOSMU #10- BACK FROM DA DEAD, HOMIEZ!2


**Summary:** "Brittany knows Santana is practicing for Puck, but she can't help hoping, all the same." Brittana. SUMOSMU #10 BACK FROM DA DEAD, HOMIEZ!

**Warning:** Mentions a strap-on, but it is not actually used. All in all, a pretty tame story- compared to my other stories, anyways.

**A/N**: Ohhhh hey! Look who it is- IT'S ME! I'm alive! You surprised, bro?

Sorry about the impromptu hiatus; got some major life changes happenin', so it put a damper on my plans. BUT. There's been some good smut happening while I've been gone, eh? Eh?!

Shout-outs to my friends who've been keepin' it real (and smutty), **LoneGambit, ishIheard2day, heyho** (who finally updated **Paperweight,** hoooo!), **jellymankelly** (who dropped another CSP for **Innocent**! HOTTT) and my darling bb, **crammit.**

Happy wanking! :D

* * *

"Santana?" Brittany calls, hesitantly entering the girl in question's bedroom and dropping her schoolbag onto the carpet by the door. She quickly scans the room for her friend, feeling nervous for reasons she cannot name.

Okay, that's a lie- Brittany knows why she's nervous.

She stands, wondering if she should go search for Santana, when lithe, tan arms slide around her waist from behind and pull her close.

"Hey, B," Santana says sweetly against her shoulder, and Brittany bites her lip. She's used to being affectionate with Santana, but she's usually the one initiating the touches. Not that she's complaining, really…

As if sensing her uncertainty, Santana releases her, and moves to walk into her field of vision. "Thanks again for doing this," she says enthusiastically. "I couldn't really ask anyone else, and- well, I don't want to look like a moron, or worse, _unsexy_ or something." She lifts her gaze to Brittany's, her brown eyes intense and penetrating. "You'd tell me if I was embarrassing myself, right?"

Brittany nods quickly, feeling her stomach fluttering with anticipation, biting back words like _you could never be unsexy_ in favor of diverting her attention to Santana's iPod dock. She doesn't think she's ever been this nervous, not even when she had a solo performance in her fifth-grade dance recital, and as Santana moves to her closet, she feels her pulse picking up speed.

Had she really agreed to do this?

_Sure, friends help each other out_, she reasons. She shakes her head at herself, her eyes immediately falling to the curve of Santana's ass as the girl bends to get something out of her closet, and she chastises herself silently. _Except you want Santana as more than your friend._

She quickly plasters a smile on her face as Santana turns, holding a small brown box. Santana fidgets uncomfortably, fighting a blush, and Brittany's suddenly confused about what could be in that box that's got her looking so flustered.

"Uh, B- I know I'm already asking a lot of you, but," Santana starts in a rush, "could you maybe wear this while I do it? I really want _authenticity_." She thrusts the box out, and Brittany accepts it in a daze, still lost wondering why Santana's so embarrassed, and what's in the box. She looks down at it. It doesn't _feel_ all that heavy-

"You can change in the bathroom," Santana mutters shyly, just as Brittany's about to shake the box to help gain a clue as to its contents. Santana's eyes stare at the floor as if it's the most interesting thing she's ever seen. She reaches up to tuck a lock of dark hair behind her ear, her free hand wringing at the hem of her shirt, and if Brittany wasn't so utterly confused, she'd find Santana absolutely adorable.

Instead, Brittany just thanks her, taking the box and wandering out of Santana's bedroom and down the hall to the bathroom, lost in thought. Once she's shut behind the door, she looks down at the box in her hand, chewing her lip nervously. What could it possibly be? Is it dip? Is it lingerie? (No, that wouldn't make sense.) Is it-

She lifts the previously-opened flaps of the box and peers inside, surprised when she's greeted by the sight of something leather, and a-

Brittany's eyes widen considerably and she nearly drops the box. Her heart pounds at the sight of the light pink dildo lying there, secured in a velvet tray. She brushes her fingers against it, surprised at the texture, and bites her lip, her thoughts racing- Santana wants her to _wear_ it.

She lifts the dildo out of the box, then reaches for the harness. There's no page with instructions, but Brittany's smart enough to figure out how the straps go. She pauses in her inspection to contemplate what she's wearing- she'd put on loose jeans, per Santana's request- which makes sense now, considering what she's now holding. She debates with herself internally for a moment- is she really going to go through with this? She looks down at the box again, wrestling with herself. She'd never worn one before; she'd never even _seen_ one before. But Santana wants her to wear it, and her heartbeat picks up at the thought of _using_ it instead. She berates herself again- she's getting carried away. Santana is her _friend_.

_Except you want her as more than your friend._

Brittany sighs and absently fingers one of the leather straps. One step at a time- she has to put it on. So with one last nervous bite to her lip, she swallows her anxiety, sets the box down, and gets to work slipping out of her jeans.

Santana wants _authenticity_, and Brittany agreed to help her with this, so she slides the straps up her legs and secures the harness until it's snug against her hips. Once she has the dildo attached, she pulls her pants back on, adjusting herself. It's awkward, and Brittany's not used to having something pressing between her legs while she walks. She's not used to the weight hanging there, or the way it strains against her pants. But she wants to help Santana, so she takes a deep breath to calm her nerves and her feeling of awkwardness and makes her way back to Santana's room, glad that her friend's parents are out for the evening.

When she returns to the room, she notices that Santana has dragged her dark desk chair to the center of it. She clears her throat, and Santana jumps slightly, turning from her iPod dock. Her brown eyes rake over Brittany's tall, edgy frame. Her gaze stops at the bulge between Brittany's legs, and Brittany shifts under the scrutiny, her hands fidgeting nervously.

"Are you ready?" Brittany asks, her voice low, with a lot more waver than she'd hoped. She's still in disbelief that this is actually going to happen.

Santana bites her lip and nods, finally lifting her gaze, and her lips turn up into a small smile. "Thanks again for helping me with this, B," she says, eyes soft with something Brittany can't quite place.

"It's no problem," Brittany responds, moving stiffly to sit in the chair in the center of the room. She sits down and shifts uncomfortably. The harness rubs at her in a teasing way, and she's completely unused to the feeling. It's also not helping that her stomach is tightening with anticipation- that her heart is racing, pounding in her chest. She licks her lips as Santana returns to scrolling through her iPod, and rests her hands on her lap, fidgeting, waiting, trying not to stare at Santana's ass. (Is this what having a boner feels like?)

"Puck's birthday is in a couple of days," Santana explains unnecessarily, nonchalantly over her shoulder. "And I want to give him something special."

Brittany feels a hard twinge of jealousy shoot through her, and the realness of the situation hits her. This isn't for her- this is for _Puck_. All of this is for Puck, but despite the slight hurt she feels, it's lost to her quickly building arousal as she remembers-

Santana's about to give _her_ a lapdance.

Her anxiety triples at the realization, and her thoughts race again as she wonders how she is going to make it through this without revealing her feelings. When Santana had originally asked, she had agreed without thinking, not really considering everything that a _lapdance_ might entail. But now she's sitting in a chair, wearing a strap-on under her clothes that's teasing her clit in the best way, and her best friend, whom she's pretty sure she's falling in love with, is about to grind up on her lap.

_Shit_.

"Britt, don't be so stiff," Santana says suddenly, and Brittany snaps her head up, shaken out of her thoughts. "Guys don't sit like that. Slouch a little. Yeah, like that."

Brittany slides down to the edge of her seat, spreading her legs- the harness shifts and sends a spark of pleasure through her- and throws her arm over the back of the chair, trying to look casual. Her posture belies the way her stomach is tensing, the way her heart is pounding. Santana's sharp, critical gaze on her almost feels like a tangible thing, and as she leans back in the chair and tilts her head up cockily, she sees Santana's eyes soften, her lips turn up into a gentle smile. It makes her stomach flutter.

Satisfied, Santana twirls around, pausing to look over her shoulder. "Ready?" she asks, and at Brittany's nod, her smile turns devious and she presses play.

The opening notes of the Ciara song make Brittany giggle nervously, but her laughter dies immediately when Santana turns sharply and pins her with her deep, intense stare.

_I can do it big, I can do it long  
__I can do it whenever or however you want_

Brittany swallows as Santana begins to sway her hips seductively, the atmosphere suddenly turning serious and heavy in the span of a few notes. When Ciara sings _I can do circles_, Santana rotates her hips slowly, making Brittany's breath catch in her throat. Santana bounces down to the ground when Ciara sings the hook of the song, and Brittany feels her heartbeat accelerating, suddenly acutely aware of how sweaty her palms are and how the leather in her pants feels pressed against her.

When Santana reaches up to tangle fingers in her own hair, Brittany imagines what the long, dark strands would feel like in her own fists, imagines how silky they would feel as she runs her own fingers through them. As Santana continues to roll her hips and drop down to the floor repeatedly with the beat of the song, Brittany bites her lip, imagining her hands on Santana's hips, on Santana's firm ass. When Santana ends up on all fours with her ass facing her, Brittany struggles to stifle a moan as her thoughts run rampant. She imagines what it would be like to take Santana in the position, tugging down her short, teasing skirt and thrusting her hips forward-

_They love the way I ride it_

Santana claws up her dresser to her feet like a sexy panther, her back arched and her ass pushing Brittany's control to its limits. She can hear the beat of the song pounding through her, and her own rapid breathing coming in heavy pants and gasps. When Santana sexily tosses her hair over her shoulder and looks at her heatedly, Brittany feels a jolt of arousal shoot straight through her body and end with a hard throb between her legs. Her mind races, panics as Santana moves closer, her body swaying the entire way, and as she mounts her lap, her clothed sex pushes down at the dildo in her pants, putting pressure on her, and she nearly bucks up out of the seat with surprise.

_They love the way I ride it_

Brittany digs fingers into her knees as Santana rolls her hips against her, and, more importantly, the hard silicone strapped to her hips. It's stupid how easily Santana targets the bulge and works it, and within moments, Brittany's gasping, struggling to control herself as her senses are invaded by Santana's scent and heat and the sexy rolling of her body. Guiltily, her eyes drop to her friend's cleavage, her bra pushing her breasts up and together in the most delicious way. Brittany longs to press a kiss to the plump tops of her tan breasts, but instead she bites her lip harder and squeezes her eyes shut.

"How am I doing?" Santana breathes hotly in her ear, and an involuntary shudder rips through Brittany's frame at the low, throaty sound, combined with the warmth of her breath.

"Great," Brittany manages to choke out, clenching her fists and squeezing her eyes shut tighter, forcing herself not to buck her hips up as Santana continues to indirectly put pressure on her clit with her movements. Before she can stop it, the thought of fucking Santana with the strap-on she's wearing- watching each inch disappear inside her tight, wet heat- crosses her mind, and she moans softly, her clit throbbing hard at the image. Between her filthy thoughts and the fact that Santana's still riding her lap like she's a stallion, she can feel her orgasm building, and she moans again, louder.

Fuck.

She panics, and in an effort to hide her moan, stutters, "I really th-think Puck is gonna love it." She struggles to take her mind off of her steadily approaching orgasm. Oh, god, she's gonna _come_- how _embarrassing_-

"Yeah?" Santana half-moans in her ear, and when her smooth, wet tongue darts out to tease the shell of it, Brittany snaps.

"Yeah- totally. Uh- look, I've got to-" she starts, making an effort to shift to her feet, but Santana doesn't move, and instead, still working her hips, her warm hands find Brittany's and she guides them up and over her clothed breasts, placing them there, moaning softly when Brittany's hands make contact.

_ All up on your frame  
__Baby, say my name_

Brittany can't believe this is happening; sure, she's made out with Santana before, and they'd had sex once when they were so drunk neither of them really remembered it the next day, but Santana had never let her touch her like _this_- and especially not instigated it herself. Once she gets over the initial shock, she doesn't waste her opportunity, and begins squeezing at Santana's breasts, loving the weight and warmth of them in her hands. Santana continues to ride her lap, but barely in time with the song, and she can hear her breath growing more ragged and raspy in her ear. Her small, whimpering moans are making Brittany teeter on the edge, her orgasm so close, she's embarrassed that she's going to come without even taking any of her clothes off. She suddenly has a lot more respect for guys that she'd danced with-

_He love the way I ride the beat  
__Like a motherfuckin freak_

Brittany feels Santana reach up and tug her shirt and the cups of her bra down, freeing her breasts, and then Brittany's hands touch nothing but heated skin. Hard nipples hit her palms and Brittany can't resist jerking her hips up sharply.

Santana moans in her ear. "Just like that, B- fuck, that feels so good."

Feeling light-headed at the sudden knowledge that Santana's getting pleasure from this activity as well, Brittany experimentally rolls her hips up to meet Santana's thrusts. She wills herself to hold on as Santana rides her lap at a slow pace, the song completely forgotten as they get lost in the feel of each other's bodies and their heavy, expelled breaths.

Brittany trembles, whimpering, "San- shit, I'm gonna-" Her hands find Santana's hips and she grabs them tightly, her hips pushing up, and the last push sends her hurtling over the edge. She comes hard, shaking, moaning against Santana's shoulder, and then, before she can catch her breath, Santana's lips are on hers, kissing her fiercely.

Brittany moans again as Santana's tongue invades her mouth, and she wraps her arms more firmly around Santana's waist as the girl settles in her lap completely and rocks her hips against her. Again, Brittany is surprised by the kiss- they've made out drunkenly before, and even a couple of times not drunk, and even had sex after that party that one time that she barely remembers, but they are both sober, and she allows herself to hope for just a second that maybe, maybe-

Santana's supposed to be practicing for Puck, though- is this what Santana was going to do with Puck after the lapdance? Her stomach tenses, and reality hits her now that the aftershocks of her orgasm have passed. Santana breaks the kiss and buries her face against Brittany's neck, and Brittany's mouth suddenly tastes sour. Is Santana still in the moment _with_ _Puck_?

But then Santana moans and kisses her again and pants, "Britt, I'm so close- so close, Brittany- _Brittany_-" and hearing her name like that, so desperate from Santana's lips, makes her heart pound, and she lets herself hope for just a second that maybe, maybe-

With a sharp cry, Santana tosses her head back, her grip tightening around Brittany's shoulders, pressing their bodies together as Santana grinds down hard into her lap. Brittany holds her steady as she arches back, pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder and resisting the almost unbearable urge to suck one of Santana's hard, exposed nipples into her mouth. She can feel Santana trembling in her arms, her body strung taut like a bow as she comes against her for long moments.

When she hears Santana's breathing start to return to normal, Brittany's mind begins to panic- what does this mean? Have things changed between them? Does Santana know how she-

Brittany's mind goes blank when Santana's lips find hers, and then they're kissing sweetly. Santana's hand finds the back of her neck and massages it gently as her lips slide against hers, and when she pulls back, she rests their foreheads together, and Brittany instantly relaxes.

"Thanks again for doing this for me, B," Santana says lowly, her voice still a little hoarse, and Brittany's heart thumps with pride at the reason why.

"That's what friends are for, right?" she answers, and the way Santana smiles at her lets her know she's said the right thing.

Santana presses one more brief, sweet kiss to Brittany's lips, and then pulls back with an even bigger grin as she fixes her bra and shirt.

"You know what friends are _really_ for?" At Brittany's smile, she continues, "Getting their cuddle on together." She grabs Brittany's hand and tugs her to her feet. "Go change, and I'll pop in some Sweet Valley High."

Brittany smiles like an idiot as she carefully meanders to the bathroom, feeling uncomfortably wet and slick with the still-unfamiliar weight between her legs.

Puck may get a lapdance, but he will never get the parts of Santana that Brittany does.

* * *

**So it was short and sweet. Just wanted to jump back in. I'll try and have another submission up this week, but no guarantees. I do plan on finishing all my prompts that I have saved though; there's at least 7 more stories heading your way, so stay tuned! :D**

**Review if you feel like it, but if not, then that's okay, I'll catch you on the next ride, har har.**

**AND NOW A WORD FROM ~OFFICER SAFETY: **

**It's not mentioned in the story, but Santana shop-lifted the strap-on, since she is obviously too young to actually buy one, and I doubt she'd be bold enough to put that shit on her parents' CC. Let's talk about AWKWARD.**

**But in case you don't know already, SHOPLIFTING IS A SERIOUS CRIME. If you are under 18, and in this case, Santana is, you at least will not be tried as an adult, but no one needs retail theft on their record, it will haunt you forever. **

**But if you are over 18 (which, I hope you all are, considering this is a smutty lesbian story) then you will be tried as an adult and face serious legal repercussions for your actions.**

**So, the moral of the story? Don't shoplift. **

**No matter how hot it might be to get your friend to wear it so you can grind on their lap. **

**That's all.**

**STAY SAFE AND PLAY SAFE! :D **

****title is from the Fall Out Boy song of the same name; the song Santana used is "Ride" by Ciara, of course!


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